The Lucky One
by Dani-Ellie03
Summary: Killian heaved a sigh as he threw the covers off his legs and climbed out of bed. The nightmares had plagued them both since the return from the Underworld so he had a pretty good idea of where Emma might be. (or, Killian and Emma deal with nightmares from the Underworld.)


**Author's Note:** find-emma-swan on Tumblr asked for a story about either Emma or Killian waking from a nightmare following all the Underworld stuff and the other comforting them. Somehow that prompt evolved into what you see below. Title and lyrics used to head the story come from the Vertical Horizon song of the same name. Feedback makes every day like fanfic Christmas! Enjoy. :)

* * *

 _I know I'm the lucky one,_  
 _'Cause I'm here and you're with me._

* * *

Breaking free of the red-tinged dreamscape was a bit like breaking the surface of an angry ocean. The nightmare tried its damnedest to hold onto him and pull him back under but Killian Jones fought the pull with everything he had. It was a dream, he knew it was a dream. Now he just needed to wake up.

He kicked as hard as he could for the surface. His eyes snapped open, his breath escaping his lips in heaving gasps.

The heavy blackness of the darkened bedroom was heaven. No red sky, no underground caverns. The soft mattress beneath him was far more comfortable than the hard, unforgiving rock of the Underworld. The tortured screams that had served as the soundtrack to his nightmare – the same tortured screams that had permeated every inch of Hades' underground torture chamber – no longer echoed in his ears. Even the sulfur-y smell of Hades' realm was gone, replaced with the soft, comforting scent of the lavender spray Emma had taken to spritzing on their pillows at night in a last ditch effort to avoid … well, this.

He took deep breaths of the cool, fresh night air filtering into the bedroom from the opened windows. Slowly, he calmed. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness enough for him to be able to make out shapes and he glanced somewhat guiltily over at Emma's side of the bed. Hopefully his nightmare hadn't disturbed her …

The concern ended up being for naught; his Swan was nowhere to be found. The rumpled sheets on her side of the bed were cold, indicating that she'd been up for a while. Considering that the little red numbers on the clock on her bedside table read 2:28, the cold sheets were not at all a good sign.

Killian heaved a sigh as he threw the covers off his legs and climbed out of bed. The nightmares had plagued them both since the return from the Underworld so he had a pretty good idea of where she might be.

He padded down the stairs and out the front door. Sure enough, there on the porch was his Swan. The porch had become something of a sanctuary for her, a place where she could sit for a little while and let whichever nightmare sent her running from the bedroom fade.

She was curled up in the corner of the wicker loveseat, her back against the arm closest to the door and a light blanket over her legs. Killian frowned at the sight of his flask in her hand. Her nightmare must have really shaken her; she only grabbed his flask like this when she needed the liquid comfort.

One of the wooden porch slats creaked under his foot, startling Emma. "Apologies, lass," he said, wincing when she spun in the direction of the sound.

A breath of relief escaped her lips when her startled gaze landed on him and she realized she wasn't in danger. "Hey."

"Hey yourself."

Emma sat up straight, a silent invitation for him to squeeze into the corner of the loveseat behind her. He accepted the invitation with a smile, one that only grew wider when she cuddled into him, resting her back against his chest.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and let his hand search until it found hers. She grasped his hand, entwined their fingers, and squeezed. For a long beat, the two of them simply sat in silence. Emma kept her gaze trained straight ahead but Killian let his eyes wander.

He had to admit that she'd done a remarkable job turning this little outdoor space into a peaceful haven. Wicker furniture wasn't the most comfortable on its own but she'd piled the loveseat and the matching chairs with cushions, pillows, and light summery blankets. A couple of side tables on either end of the loveseat completed the space, turning it into a cozy little nook for the two of them to spend a rare few minutes relaxing outside together.

It was also her hope that she could entertain her family out here come the really nice weather. Lately, though, she used the space as a calming corner, a way to get some distance from the nightmares that awaited her in sleep.

Tonight Killian was content to just sit with her in the silence of the wee hours. As far as he was concerned, they each needed the comfort of the other.

Eventually, Emma released his hand and pressed the flask into it instead. "I'm assuming you're down here for the same reason I am," she said, breaking the comfortable silence.

"I woke to find your side of the bed not only empty but cold. I was worried."

She let out a soft breath through her nose. "Nicely avoided, captain."

He gave a slight smirk. Yes, he was indeed down there for the same reason she was. His own nightmares had sent him running as well and he needed the same distance from them she did.

"Why didn't you wake me?" Killian asked softly by way of a confirmation. Heavens knew they'd woken each other plenty, either with their own nightmares or to bring the other out of one. He handed the flask back to her and once again gripped her hand.

"You were sleeping." He felt more than saw her little shrug. "You looked peaceful."

He filled in the blanks himself: she hadn't wanted to disturb him with her issues if he was actually getting some quality sleep. "I wouldn't have minded."

She shrugged again.

Once more they lapsed into silence. Emma brought the flask to her lips and took a quick swig. "And now we're both up at oh-dark-hundred." She sat up, breaking the cuddle, and shifted on the loveseat to look him in the eye. "We're quite the pair, aren't we?"

"That we are, love," he said softly, brushing her chin with his thumb. "I wish I could take all your nightmares away."

He meant it. Hell, if he could, he'd take her nightmares on himself if it meant she'd finally get a peaceful night's sleep.

"I wish I could take yours," she admitted, once again handing over the flask.

Killian took a swig of rum as he ruminated on her words. They couldn't take away each other's nightmares but perhaps they could take some of the bite out of them. He gave the flask back to her before saying, "You know what I think might help?"

"What?"

"Talking about them." She looked up sharply, which he'd been anticipating. "We need to talk about them, love. Keeping them to ourselves isn't doing anything but giving them power."

His poor Swan, so used to hiding behind her walls, looked unsure. It seemed she was still wearing little bit of hidden armor.

There were two ways of getting Emma Swan to talk. One was pushing past her walls, pushing her to speak her mind. The other was a simple offer of judgment-free support. When she was being truly obstinate, too bull-headed to see reason any other way, pushing worked best. In cases like this, though, the support would be the key.

And so he gave it to her, in the form of shared experiences. "Mine are mostly memories of the Underworld. The sights, the sounds, the smells. I close my eyes and I'm back there, strung up in Hades' torture chamber, about to be dunked in waters that would render me a lost soul for eternity. And in the dreams, I feel it's a fitting punishment. After all, I spent my life a life soul. Why should the afterlife be any different?"

Tears were beginning to well in her eyes. She reached out, grasped his hand, and squeezed tightly. She didn't speak but she didn't need to. He could read everything she wanted to say in her eyes.

"And sometimes the dreams shift and you're the one strung up in Hades' torture chamber. I'm the one trying to cross that tiny beam to catch you before you're lowered into the drink. And every single time, I'm too late."

The tears in her eyes spilled over as she tightened her grip on his hand. And then she did what Killian hoped she would do: she began to speak. "In every single one of mine, I lose you. Sometimes it's the memory of having to leave you behind in the Underworld. Sometimes I get you back just to lose you again to something else. A car accident or another villain or a storm at sea ... something always takes you away from me. And sometimes you're not even there and there's just this ache in my chest because I have to live the rest of my life without you and it hurts more than I ever thought possible."

That was more than enough for Killian. He gathered her into a hug and she buried her face in his shoulder, her hand grasping at the back of his sleep shirt. Killian dropped a tender kiss to the side of his Swan's head and just held her.

For a long beat, they just stayed in each other's embrace and let the closeness comfort them. Emma was the first to pull away, giving him a slightly sheepish smile. She didn't say anything further so, taking his cues from her, neither did he.

She did, however, resume her previous position cuddled into him, her back against his chest. She took a sip from the flask, which they'd abandoned during their talk, and once again handed it behind her to him. "There's something so calming about a clear sky at night," she said after a beat of silence. "It's like the stars go on forever."

"That vastness is exactly what I find calming about it," Killian agreed after taking his own swig of rum. "There's something about looking up at the expanse of stars that makes my problems seem so small in comparison."

"Mm."

He didn't know how long she'd been down here – long enough for the warmth from her body to have fled the sheets, of course, but nothing exact – but he could tell she was beginning to tire again. The lateness of the hour combined with the emotional release had drained her.

Hopefully that emotional release would be enough to keep the nightmares at bay for a little while.

There was, however, another problem. If he tried to get her to move back into the house, he might rouse her too much, making any further sleep for her tonight impossible. Then they'd all have a cranky Emma on their hands and nobody wanted that.

So, making a quick decision, he traced soft lines on her arm and lowered his voice to a murmur. He began telling her of his history with the stars. How Liam taught him to spot Orion by the belt. How he learned to figure out his position on sea based on their position in the sky. How to use them as a map to guide him home.

Slowly, she relaxed. Slowly, her eyes fluttered closed. Slowly, her head began to drift to the side. She tried her hardest to stay awake, forcing her eyes open only to have them close again, forcing her head up only to have it drop again. (It amused Killian more than words could express that she could be even more contrary three-quarters asleep than she could fully conscious.) She fought it for a little while but slowly, the gentle story soothed her into a deep slumber.

A smiling Killian set the flask on the end table beside him before attempting to make himself a little more comfortable on the loveseat. Their positioning wasn't ideal and the sun would be coming up far too soon but if his Swan managed to catch another couple hours of sleep, the stiff muscles he was sure to awaken with would be worth it.

* * *

The abnormally bright sunshine and an equally abnormal chill in the air were doing their damnedest to get Emma Swan up for the day. She could be just as stubborn, though, so she fought it with everything she had. She was warm despite the chill in the air and she felt … safe. Safer than she remembered feeling in a good long while.

She was not about to give up that warmth and that security, bright sunshine or no bright sunshine.

She dozed for a little while, drifting in and out of sleep. Eventually her stiff muscles joined the sun and the chilly breeze in an effort to get her to move.

Wait a second … stiff muscles? Chilly breeze?

She dragged her eyes open and discovered to her surprise that she had not at all been sleeping in the bedroom she and Killian shared. She was … outside on the front porch?

She sat up, her muscles screaming at the effort, and blinked dazedly. A soft chuckle beside her startled her. She whipped her head around and came face to face with a highly amused Killian Jones. "Good morning, love."

All at once, the memories of the previous night – oh, hell, earlier this morning – came rushing back to her. A nightmare had awakened her and she'd come down here to relax since going back to sleep had been out of the question. Killian had awoken from his own nightmare and tracked her down out here and they'd talked … and then what? She'd just passed out down here?

Oops.

"Good morning," she replied, still somewhat groggy. "What time is it?"

"Judging by the sun's position in the sky, I'd say about half past six."

She groaned involuntarily, to which Killian chuckled. Half past six was pretty much still the middle of the night, as far as she was concerned.

Still, half past six did mean she'd gotten around three more hours of sleep than she'd anticipated. That was something, she supposed.

As the grogginess cleared, she realized from her positioning in relation to Killian's that he must have spent the last three hours doubling as her pillow. She looked up at him with a sheepish wince. "I'm sorry I trapped you out here."

A bright smile combined with the morning sunshine to light his face. "You didn't 'trap me out here,' love. I'm just glad you were able to rest. Plus, while you were resting, I managed to get a little extra shut-eye as well."

 _That's good_ , Emma thought with a smile of her own. He needed the sleep just as much as she did. "Any nightmares?"

"Not a one. How about you?"

"Nope." It was the truth. The three hours she'd spent cuddled up to him were probably the first three hours of uninterrupted sleep she'd had since she took on the darkness. Suddenly the level of security she'd felt upon awakening made sense. She'd felt safe because she was with him.

And he with her, apparently.

Her heart skipped a beat at the thought. The lost little girl and the lost little boy each had given up on love only to find love in each other. Their love was ordained by the gods and had transcended death itself. Zeus himself, the god of gods, had given them a second chance, had given them back to each other. (Emma wasn't exactly the praying kind but she'd sent countless silent thank yous up to Mount Olympus since Killian came back in the hopes that Zeus could hear her.)

Maybe it was luck that the two of them found each other. Maybe it was fate. Emma didn't know but she thanked her lucky stars every single day that Killian Jones had come into her life.

"Come, love," Killian said now, his soft voice startling her back to the present. She had started to shiver and goosebumps had broken out on her arms and legs. He rubbed her arm in an effort to warm her. "You're chilled."

Though she hated to leave the safe little cocoon they'd made out here, Emma stood and gathered the blanket in her arms. She waited for Killian to push himself to his feet before rising up on her toes to give him a long, tender kiss. "Thanks for sitting with me last night," she said when she broke for air, looking up into her amazing pirate's eyes.

Killian smiled back, his eyes sparkling and his tone gentle. "You're very welcome, love. I'm glad the talk helped."

It had, the talk and his presence. And though there would probably be a few straggling bad dreams here and there, somehow Emma knew that the bulk of the nightmares were over.


End file.
